Bleeding Stars
by MetalWolfMelody
Summary: Charlie works as a consultant for the FBI, the NSA, and countless other agencies. But his beginnings were always humble- he was a college professor first. Charlie forms a bond with a student that stumbles into his office, battered and asking for help. But trouble seeks Charlie out once again as this student is kidnapped for his work, and a body count begins to rise.
1. Chapter 1

Charlie Eppes was standing where he usually stood at this time of the afternoon- at the chalkboard in his office, busily scratching chalk across the surface, brows scrunched tight in concentration. Canned music came softly from the headphones hugging his ears, and it was almost enough to block out the sound of knocking coming from the door. Although he discounted the first few beats as nothing more than his own noise, it became apparent that he did indeed have a guest.

Flipping the headphones off and around his ears, Charlie set down the chalk on his desk and hurried over to the door, absently humming the tune of a song beneath his breath, assuming that no one else would bother him during his lunch hour outside of Amita or Larry. However, upon opening the door, about to ask his friends why they bothered knocking for once, he was met with a somewhat familiar face.

Wide eyes stared at him, about level with his own, but brown and filled with something that Charlie identified as fear. Curiosity piqued, Charlie took a moment to think about why he recognized the face, and it came to him readily enough. The skinny, pale, and frightened boy had been part of Larry's advanced study class, a group of only fifteen kids or so, intent on studying the relation between gravity and relativity. Charlie only recognized this boy because he had to fill in for Larry one day while he was out ill, and this boy had captured a certain interest of his. Of course, Larry spoke of him often, the star pupil, youngest mind currently at CalSci, with a bright talent for cosmology.

"Thomas, hey, what's up?" Charlie inquired with a smile, looking the young boy over quickly. Thomas had books clenched in his hands, a white knuckle grip around them, and that brought Charlie's attention to something rapidly, something he knew he shouldn't have overlooked.

Blood was trickling down from a cut above Thomas' eye, and a bright purple bruise was beginning to form a ring around his eye. His lip was also split open, blood streaming down his chin, these fresh wounds marring what Charlie could only remember as a young and innocent face.

"P-professor Eppes" Thomas stuttered, eyes flickering rapidly back and forth, avoiding Charlie's gaze. "I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'll come back later, I didn't mean to bother you" he continued, about to turn on his heel. Although the sight of blood initially spurred Charlie into a form of shock, he couldn't help himself from grabbing Thomas' shoulder, preventing him from turning away.

"Thomas, what happened?" Charlie asked, leaning in closer to examine the extent of the damage, bringing a worried and shaking hand up to Thomas' face, running a thumb up across his eyebrow to wick away the small trickle of blood. Thomas flinched away at first, but quickly turned his expression from fear to embarrassment.

"It… It's nothing, okay? I just have a question about my thesis, and Professor Fleinhardt wasn't in. Do you mind looking over my notes? If it's too much trouble, I can come back another time-"

But Charlie couldn't help but feel sickened at the sight of the blood, the feel of the blood on his thumb, the sight of this young boy marred by violence. With a steady hand on Thomas' shoulder, he led the boy into his office, cutting him off mid argument.

"Listen, we can talk about your thesis later, but what happened? Did you get into a fight?" Charlie continued to question as he led Thomas to a chair, sweeping the papers off of it to provide the young boy a place to sit. Thomas took it warily, and Charlie hunted for the small first aid kit he was required to keep in his office, the one he swore that he wouldn't misplace. Charlie's stomach was already churning at the thought of the older college boys turning against this young genius, a boy that Larry had told him was not a day older than sixteen. Still a bit older than himself at the time of university, but still impressively young.

Thomas squirmed where he sat, books still clutched tightly in his grasp, and Charlie watched out of the corner of his eye as he continued his hunt. The boy ran his tongue over the split lip, and Charlie then decided to abandon the search for the first aid kit. It was more than obvious to his eyes that the boy was uncomfortable, a likely shyness only amplified by his own presence, and the presence of the wounds on his face. With a heavy sigh, Charlie pulled a smile onto his face, sitting down at the chair behind his desk, trying to put the boy's nerves at ease and give him a chance to explain.

"Well" Thomas started, seemingly biting down on his inner cheek, still refusing to meet Charlie's eyes. "It doesn't really matter what happened to me. Some of the older guys from the physics department acted like I had the answers to something I didn't have the answers to, and well, they thought they could beat it out of me, I guess" he trailed off softly, running a hand through the scruffy hair on his head.

Charlie felt nothing other than a pain of regret in his heart that Thomas was going through this, and the burning desire to give this young boy vengeance on his tormentors, but the intellectual portion of his mind was running faster and above the emotional. He knew more than well that Thomas was only a sophomore student, and hadn't begun the work on his thesis.

"Thomas," Charlie prompted softly, putting his hands on the desk, staring at the young student with what he imagined was a knowing eye. Charlie knew that he had never been stellar at dealing with students, especially younger students, on an emotional level. It was ironic, considering that he should be able to relate with them better than anyone else, but his social skills seemed to inhibit his excellence in this one subject. After a moment of silence, which led Thomas to squirm uncomfortably, Charlie continued.

"It isn't your thesis you're working on, is it? I know that you're a bright boy, Thomas, and that makes you a target. Trust me, I know. But I won't stand for people pushing you around like this."

"I'm strong!" Thomas cut in, suddenly looking up, and Charlie was glad to see that the flow of blood had ebbed, although the initial joy was cut back by the fact his one eye was now almost swollen shut. The conviction in the young student's statement filled Charlie with something akin to despair, at this young soul's inability to understand just how much greatness awaited him once he worked his way out of this hellhole called college.

"I wasn't doubting your strength, Thomas. I know that you're strong, stronger than them. But helping them cheat their way through this, taking these beatings, this isn't the way to go. Now, I'll help you with anything that you need, including getting back at these kids."

Thomas didn't reply right away, only looked at Charlie with a look that held fear, but much less of it. Instead, the tight drawn lips indicated that most of the fear was replaced with something that Charlie prayed he identified correctly- hope. In fact, his assurance that this was the actual feeling that Thomas had grew as the seconds passed, and the fear continued to ebb. Suddenly, a thought dawned on Charlie, one that he couldn't help but voice the instant it came to his mind.

"You did come here for help, and not just on their thesis. You thought I could help you out with other things, like those boys, didn't you?" Charlie couldn't help but feel a smile cracking on his face, the thought that he may have figured out what was wrong in such a short period of time. It took a minute, but Thomas nodded shyly, a display that Charlie knew took courage. For a young man to admit weakness, and to admit need, was an act of bravery. Thomas spoke again, and Charlie pretended to ignore, for the sake of Thomas' pride, the cracks in his voice.

"I just didn't think anyone else would understand. I figured that you, if anyone here, would have some ideas for what to do, and I mean, I am interested in the idea for his thesis, I really am, but I know it's wrong to do it. But I think I might have solved a key point of his equation, and I would feel better if you looked over it."

"Thomas, you do understand, if I help you with this, and you have worked on his thesis, I have to report him, and he'll face consequences? That he can't turn this work in as his?"

And that was when, for the first time since Thomas walked into the office, Charlie saw the hints of a smile on his face. Once again, the social intelligence picked up to Charlie's racing mathematic intelligence, and the professor couldn't help but smile as well.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it? You didn't just want help- you wanted justice."

Thomas nodded eagerly, and placed the papers that he had been clutching in his hands so tightly onto Charlie's already cluttered desk, opening the tattered folder and letting loose leaf edge out from the paper barriers. Numbers were already filling Charlie's mind, and he was hungry for knowledge, despite this branch of physics not being his strongest interest. And in that moment, when he looked into Thomas' eyes, he saw that the pain was fading, and a strong love for numbers had taken over his thoughts. And that was all that Charlie needed to assure him that he was doing the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

About half an hour later, Charlie looked up at the clock, and turned back to Thomas, who was bent over a book, eyes furiously darting back and forth over the pages. Charlie hated to disturb the boy, who he had gotten to know so much better over the course of the past hour, but it was almost time for him to start his next class.

"Hey, Thomas?" He spoke up, watching as the boy perked up staring up at him with knowledge filled eyes.

"Is it time to go already?" Thomas asked, his voice suddenly filled with disappointment. Charlie hated to be a cause of discouragement, but it wasn't as though they hadn't made progress the past hour. Nodding his head, Charlie started to gather the papers that he had spread across his desk, stuffing them back in the folder that Thomas had brought into the office.

The boy had gone from scared and embarrassed to enthusiastic and bright in the course of only an hour, although Charlie couldn't help but see he was still in pain from the small beating he had taken earlier. But the pair had already agreed, getting back at someone for their intellectual integrity, and possibility terminating their ability to remain at CalSci, was far more satisfying than seeing someone take punishment for a small act of physical violence.

"Hey, Thomas, I know that I'm not your head professor, but I'd be more than happy to work with you again sometime. Does that sound okay?" Charlie asked, and by watching the excitement that reappeared on Thomas' face, Charlie didn't need a verbal response.

"Alright, then I expect to see you back here, maybe with some of your own work next time, alright? Look out for yourself, and I'll go run some stuff with the administrators, see what I can do about getting those kids caught for their plagiarism. Trust me, when I'm done, you won't see them around here again. Now I have a class to teach, and you have a class to go to. I'll see you around" he said in farewell, as Thomas walked towards the door, all of his materials gathered. The boy paused a moment in the threshold, and turned around over his shoulder before walking away for the final time.

"Thank you, Professor. Thanks for everything."

Charlie smiled in satisfaction, glad that he able to not only help with math equations, but help a young student with his life in college.

Just as he was about to grab his briefcase in preparation for his next lecture, his phone started ringing. Sighing in exasperation, Charlie picked up the familiar number, wondering just what in the heck that Don had in store for him this time.

"Hey, Charlie" his brother's voice came in over the phone. "I have a case for you."

"Well, that's nothing new. What's up this time?" Charlie asked, pinching the phone between his cheek and his neck as he groped for the final papers to stuff into his briefcase. There was a slight pause on the phone before Don continued, which didn't exactly raise any red flags with Charlie. However, Charlie stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the drop of Don's tone, even across the phone.

"Charlie, I don't think we need you to actually solve anything this time, we just need you for some other information. We found some bodies, two kids from CalSci, and it looks like they were tortured, a very professional looking job. We think that whoever killed them wanted their work, or access to something that only they would have access to at the CalSci labs. We just want to see if you knew them, or knew what anyone might want from them" Don finished out, voice trailing off softly, obviously sensitive to his brother's potential connection.

Charlie had already stopped where he stood, a sick and bitter feeling churning in his gut, names spinning through his head, potential trouble students, kids who might have fallen to the wrong side. But none that he was too close with came to mind right away. Realizing he was leaving a rather long silence to Don, he sputtered out the first words that came to mind.

"Uh, yeah, what're their names?" He paused to hear Don rifle through papers, and then his brother's usual busy humming. After another moment's pause, Don read out two names that made Charlie's blood run cold.

"Don, say them again" Charlie demanded coldly, setting his briefcase down and turning back into his office.

"I said Robert Miley and Blake Fisher. Do those names mean something to you?" Don inquired, the brotherly concern that Charlie recognized seeping in through the mobile phone. Charlie could only rush to the chalkboard that he and Thomas had been working on, staring the numbers over in another round of silence. The conversation he had with Thomas just twenty minutes earlier flashed through his mind.

 _"So, what were these boys working on that was so important?" Charlie asked as he walked across the room, flipping around the chalkboard and wiping off the notes from an earlier class away with his sleeve. Thomas was rooting through the folder, pulling out select papers, and he shrugged._

 _"I don't know, I've only looked at it once before, and that's when they were asking for help nicely. They were looking into some calculations on the rainfall and overall precipitation in areas all over the country, and were having me check on some complex algorithms that a lot of meteorologists use to connect warm and cold fronts and wind. Strange thesis work, I'll admit, but they just wanted me to make sure there weren't any flaws in the existing algorithms. I was fine with that, that first time around, they didn't want me to work on it, they just wanted a second eye. This time though…" he trailed off, adding yet another paper to the stack that he had set aside from the folder._

 _"Thomas, who were they, exactly?" Charlie asked finally, turning away from the chalkboard and looking Thomas in the eyes for as long as the boy would hold his gaze._

 _"Their names are Robert Miley and Blake Fisher, they're two seniors. But this is all Robert's work, at least, what I haven't helped with. I think Blake is just his friend, his muscle, I guess. The guy is here on a football scholarship, Blake, that is. I think Robert is very smart, I think he's onto something great here, which is why I came to you, in terms of the actual math of it all" he explained, pausing his rifling to stare at Charlie with a somewhat guilty expression. Charlie only smiled, a gaze he hoped was reassuring. Thomas' reaction was confirmation enough that it had worked. The young boy relaxed his posture as Charlie started speaking again._

 _"Well, no matter how smart he was, he was stupid enough to try and start cheating when he was almost home free. Now, if we're talking weather patterns, this is definitely a matter of interest, especially considering the fact that our certain region is prone to doubt" he started, walking over to Thomas and the papers, his interest certainly piqued._

 _"Now, if there's any idea that you should start on, it's the one about…"_

Snapping back to the present, Charlie felt his blood run cold, the brown eyes of that young boy filling his mind immediately. There was something in his stomach, something aside from the anger, a feeling that suddenly washed over him like a wave of ice water. Ian Edgerton was always saying to trust gut feelings, and for once Charlie thought it best to believe the sniper in something other than math. The hairs on his arm standing on end, Charlie felt something unnatural tear itself from his throat.

"Thomas!" Charlie screamed, abandoning the phone on the table, darting out into the hallway. It had been minutes now since the boy had left, and that meant he could be anywhere. Taking a left down the hall, Charlie tore his way past students, towards the exit from the building, knowing that he had to let his feet lead him to the cosmology department, hoping, praying that Thomas's next class was somewhere around there, that he could find the boy in time.

If something had happened to those other two boys in the course of what had to be no more than an hour and a half, something that got them killed, and if it was anything related to their work, there was a likely chance that Thomas was now in danger. Sunlight came to Charlie through the doors, and he burst through them, past yet another group of students, down towards the pavement.

"Thomas!" Charlie screamed out to the brown-haired boy walking towards the curb, almost a hundred meters away. But it was obviously too late as a black sedan roared down the street, skidding to a halt in front of the plaza, everything happening faster than Charlie was running. Just as Thomas turned around, three men jumped out of the car, one of them firing an automatic weapon into the air.

Students dropped down to the ground across the plaza, but Charlie only stopped running, just for half a second, which was all the time the men needed. They grabbed Thomas, all of the things that he had been holding, and stuffed him into the back of the car, despite his feeble struggles.

By the time that Charlie was trying to clear the distance once again, it was too late. The sedan was already racing away, and there was nothing left except hot shell casings rolling against the street, screaming students, and a devastated blackness in Charlie's stomach.

 **I hope that you like this story so far! Thanks for reading!**


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